Absolution
by KyinHI
Summary: It was the night before Christmas and hearts are stirring..
1. Chapter 1

Oh my. Now I've gone and done it. A Christmas story.

If I owned them they wouldn't be tearing down walls, they'd be building a love shack.

* * *

><p>One step forward, two steps back. The seemingly endless dance Richard Castle and Katherine Beckett were swaying to. It was the night before Christmas and the precinct was stifling. Hot, dry, recycled air blasted his face and there was a quiet hum in the air. Ancient heating pipes occasionally clanged. Richard castle didn't quite know what he was doing there. The precinct was quiet, hell the <em>city<em> was quiet. A winter storm had reduced the NYPD to a skeleton crew and anyone with an ounce of sanity was holed up in their apartment enjoying their families. Essential personnel only. And yet here he was, staring blankly at the wall, counting chips in the bricks. Kate Beckett wasn't essential. At least not to the NYPD today. She'd quietly become as essential to himself as air. There had been no new murders, the team had successfully closed two the previous day. Her ever present pile of paperwork was at an acceptable level, midway to the top of the cheap office organizer. They should be out celebrating. Or at least curled up in front of a roaring fire with a mug of cocoa and some cheesy Christmas movie playing.

"..Kate", he sighed.

"Castle. No." she replied, not looking away from the computer monitor. _Back._

Richard ground his teeth together and balled his hands into a fist. He was mad. And getting angrier by the minute. Why must this woman be so difficult? They had been making progress. Agonizingly slow, halted progress. But progress nonetheless. She had slowly been opening up to him. Allowing him to catch glimpses of her radiant smile when he cracked his lame jokes. Touching his arm gently during conversations. Sending exquisite tingles up and down his spine. She'd all but thanked him for waiting for her a month earlier, after her PTSD had surfaced. Resisting the urge to pull her into a hug and take her far away from the station had been an effort of monumental proportion on his part. Only a firm warning and a knowing pat on the back from Esposito had stopped him. Special Forces trumped Writer in the experience rankings and in the end he had been grateful for his friend's assistance. _Forward. _And then there was the bank. She was going to kiss him that day. It was written all over her face. Plain as day. As the sky is blue and the grass green. He'd seen in her eyes all she couldn't..wouldn't tell him; and that smile..that smile had constricted his heart and stolen his breath. _Forward. _His mother had chosen that moment to voice her objections to still being bound. He could have killed her if he hadn't been so happy she was alive. A flash of awareness had clouded Kate's eyes, and the moment was gone. _Back. Back. Back._

And so now it was Christmas. Usually, his favorite time of the year. New York came alive at Christmas time. People were a little less likely to jostle you out of the way on the sidewalk and a little more likely to hold open a door for you. The streets wafted with the smell of pine and roasting chestnuts. The tinkle of bells and the cries of 'Santas' collecting for various charities filled the air. The exorbitant amount of money he was paid for his work allowed him to go overboard without the usual derision that being blessed with great wealth usually afforded him. He decorated his apartment indulgently and spoiled his daughter rotten. A few days earlier though, the mood had changed. The detective had become quiet, sullen. The smiles had stopped and the touches had become distant. She was not only emotionally but physically drawing herself away. Her hands lingered longer but the intention had shifted. Her eyes moistened and the corners of her mouth dropped. Kate was packing herself away in a box and wrapping it in a neat little bow of self-flagellation. And Richard was mad. Irrationally so. He knew it wasn't fair to her, was fairly certain that her mother was heavy on her mind and heart and that he should be supportive. He knew this but how much was his own heart supposed to take? Four years he had been chipping away at her carefully placed walls. Four years. Foxtrotting in only to be tangoed right back out. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair, staring at a bland brick wall while the woman he loved quietly completed unnecessary paperwork during the early eve of Christmas. Hiding. Behind a wall of her own making.

His gaze shifted to the window. A light snow was still falling, keeping the landscape a fluffy white instead of the slushy gray it would all too soon become. The city lights twinkled against the brilliant backdrop and Richard Castle closed his eyes and quietly waited. For his daughter's angry text. For his mother's sympathetic yet stern call. For mercy. Absolution. For Kate.


	2. Chapter 2

Nope, I didn't go out and buy them in the last 8 hours. They still belong to Marlowe. Lucky bastard!

* * *

><p>Her lower back was aching. Screaming for a change of posture. She had stubbornly ignored Castle for the last four hours. She'd dove headlong into unimportant paperwork and tried to bury herself in the monotony of it. He was persistent, she'd give him that. The week had been filled with little 'Castle Extras'. More lighthearted banter and teasing, a wink on the way to the squad car, the ubiquitous hand on the lower back. It was more of a caress these days than a guide. She didn't really mind. She kind of liked it. She definitely liked it. A cinnamon bun he obviously had to go out of his way for instead of the usual bear claw had been dramatically presented to her, an adorable and probably highly expensive angel ornament had been surreptitiously placed on her desk when he thought she wasn't looking. The only problem was that all this extra attention and especially during the holiday season just made her remember her mother more. Her mom had made cinnamon buns every Sunday morning, her and her father would share the paper while her mother fussed and clucked about them being too thin; just the smell made her want to run away to a corner and sob. The ornament was beautiful, it just happened to be from the same collection that her mother meticulously maintained. They had been packed carefully away that last Christmas and neither she, nor her father, had the nerve to bring them out for Christmas since. Cheap, plastic balls on her eighteen inch, cheap, plastic tree was just about all the Christmas that Kate could take. Of course Castle didn't know this. The first two years, they'd wished each other well and parted ways like it was any other night. They hadn't been quite as close the first couple years and though he'd asked about her plans it had been easy to brush him off. Last year it had still been slightly awkward from the previous summer and Rick and his family had gone to the Hamptons two weeks beforehand. An easy-out she had been grateful for. He'd never witnessed first-hand the Grinch that she became when the holidays rolled around. the boys knew. They had been blessedly scarce for the entire month. All business and dry gallows humor. She had been avoiding Rick. Clinging to him, snapping at him, scurrying away from him, all week. She'd been running hot and cold. It was likely a Christmas miracle that he hadn't had her committed yet, she thought ruefully.<p>

Kate let out a long sigh and sat up straighter in her chair. Stretching, she looked furtively in his direction. He was sound asleep. His head hung at a clumsy angle and the small puffs of air he softly blew out ruffled his hair in an all too adorable manner. Her fingers twitched at the urge to brush it back from his brow. Smooth out the worry lines adorning his forehead. She had no doubt that she was the cause of more than a couple of them. _I love you, too_, she mouthed. She did this a lot. Smiling at him when she was fairly certain he wasn't looking, her hand lingering a little longer than was strictly necessary when handing over a document. And the 'I love you practice'. She'd been at this one for weeks. She gone over every scenario in her head. Would he be angry at her for keeping it a secret? Oh she'd heard alright and it had been written all over his face when he had first come to visit after the shooting. His desperate pleas not to leave and of his love haunted her. She still caught him looking at her like that every once in a while. She'd cover the guilt with a biting comment and then proceed to feel even more guilty. An endless cycle of what-ifs and if-onlys. Would he just be happy she'd said it back and kiss her senseless? She liked that one. She repeated it in her head, ad-nauseum, every night before falling asleep. A small smile played at her lips as she watched him sleep. The kiss they had shared outside the warehouse had been, in his words, amazing. She agreed. Wholeheartedly. She had no doubts that if, _when_, she ever got the courage they would be amazing together. She felt a blush creeping its way up her chest and towards her cheeks.

_Snap out of it, Kate! _She shook her head, stood up and roughly pulled her hair into a messy bun. Now was not the time. Not when she couldn't handle a little Christmas cheer without biting off the unlucky well-wisher's head. It wasn't just Castle, she'd been snapping at cab drivers and coworkers just as capably. She'd go to therapy after the holidays, tell the good doctor she was finally, truly ready and then together they'd work out a plan to kick herself in the ass. Yes, she liked that plan. It was a good plan.

Right now though she needed coffee. And to kick Castle out. There was another Christmas ritual, other than misplaced bitchiness and bah-humbugging that she also practiced. Every year on Christmas Eve since her mother's death, she went to the cemetery. It wasn't as morose as it sounded. It was actually quite pleasant. She'd buy a big, bright bunch of Christmas flowers. Holly, Christmas rose, ivy and poinsettia. Some sprigs of pine. Her mom had loved what she called the smell of Christmas and Kate liked to surround herself with it when she went to visit. She'd take a big travel mug of coffee, a warm blanket and would quietly sit by the headstone as twilight turned to night and tell her mom about the year she'd had. The ups and the downs. The important stuff she didn't have time to ponder over on her infrequent visits when all she had time for was a quick, "I love you. I miss you. I'll see you soon." She would cry, she would laugh, she would get it all out and prepare herself for the next new year without a mother. It was a pilgrimage she would not skip out on. Not even for Castle. Certainly not for herself.

Kate busied herself with the coffee machine and began working on excuses to bow out of whatever distraction technique Castle would come up with next. Her Dad, she decided. Rick couldn't possibly have an issue with her going to see her father on Christmas Eve. She was actually kind of mad with him that he wasn't with his daughter at this very moment. She was mad at herself for being the reason. Steeling herself, she grabbed the travel mug and prepared to wangle her way out of 'Operation: Subdue Kate'. She wasn't prepared to run right into him at the break room door.


	3. Chapter 3

Oh jeez. I hope I did this scene justice.

* * *

><p>"Castle!" she yelped. "Jeez, you scared me."<p>

So sneaking out of the precinct while he slumbered was definitely out.

The warm liquid ran down her shirt, she was grateful she'd gone heavy on the milk. Upset she'd left the lid on her desk. Her irritation rose when she realized that she would have to make a trip to the locker room for a fresh shirt. Castle's dazed look wasn't helping either. He'd be contrite now, even more eager to please and sooth her. She couldn't handle staring into those soulful eyes and once again invent a reason why she couldn't hang out. Hang loose. Drop her top. _Please, _she wished._ Just let me get through tonight. Tomorrow I will sort this out. A new day, a fresh start. Not tonight._ _Please_. Anger, her mind quickly supplied. Yelling at Castle would ensure his quick retreat and her chance to escape.

"Coffee Castle. More. Now move." She used her most authoritative voice, thrust the cup in to his hands, pursed her lips and made her move to pass him. What came next shouldn't have surprised her. She'd pushed him to breaking point once before. When he'd pushed on what they were and she'd pushed back, only to run scared at the last minute and kick him out of her life. She thanked a power greater than herself every day since then that he'd come back to her. And now here she was about to do it again. Yes, she definitely should have known. They had been having the same general fight for the past week. This time it had just been occurring in slow motion. She saw him draw in a deep breath, watched his eyes flash with anger and quickly jerked back in surprise with his sudden move. His arm slammed up against the door frame, blocking her path. Her escape. The door rattled on it's hinges and she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that this wasn't going to end well. His voice, when he spoke, was low. Menacing.

"How long am I supposed to linger, Kate? Do I push? Do I give you space? Last time I gave you space it took three months. I _thought _we had moved forward. I sat here and waited all day, Kate. While my family is at home waiting on me. And yet I sat here all day watching you studiously avoid even _looking _at me because _you_ are my family too. Would you like to know what woke me up? What brought me careening in here?"

He paused for a breath and for one shining, sweet moment she hoped he was collecting himself. Safe Castle was what she needed right now. Not passionate, angry Castle. She was sorely disappointed, he cut her off before she could formulate a reply.

"It was a text, from Alexis. She was wondering when we would be home. We, Kate. Us. And I understood as I sat there, alone on my chair; wondering where you had gotten to, that I still don't know_ what we are_. I thought I could do this. Be your rock. Patiently chip at that wall that you have oh so carefully placed. But I realized something. It's not a wall, it's a dam and it's well past due that it broke. I'm sick of chiseling holes in that dam. You allowing me to get a sip of that cool, sweet water only to have you leave me withering on the other side as you mortar it right back up. I love you, Kate. But then... you already know that. Don't you?"

Visions of him kneeling beside her limp body, him pleading, calling to her. His sorrowful face swam in her head and she came up with a multitude of differing reasons for her deception, instantly rejecting them as selfish and the wrong answer. She remembered his hopeful smile when he first came to visit her. After. After she'd been shot. It's how she saw their relationship in her mind now. Before and After. Occasionally she longed for before, when everything was a lot more simple. Playful banter and flirtation with the promise of something more. She remembered how his adam's apple had bobbed up and down and how his beautiful face fell as she outright lied to him and sent him away. Because she was afraid. Not of him but for her own intense feelings towards him and what it would take to fully open herself up to him and the possibilities of "always". She stood stock still, rooted in astonishment. Tears pooled in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled.

Leaving her no time to protest, with one hand he roughly seized her waist and pulled her to his frame. His other hand clutched at her cheek as his lips finally captured hers. There was no ruse this time. No excuses to be made and no turning back. It started out fiery. Angry. His teeth nipped at her lips. His hand that had been at her waist pulled the bun harshly out of her hair. He clawed almost desperately at her curls, the long tresses tangled in his fingers, sending delicious tingles down her spine. Startled, Kate could do nothing but respond. Her baser instincts took over from where her brain had left off. She moaned and let her tongue take a languid journey around his mouth. As she finally let go, allowing herself to wallow in his ministrations, she felt the kiss slowly morph into something more gentle. He loosened his grip on her hair. The hand on her face relaxed and he made soft, soothing strokes with his thumb near the corner of her eye. He let out a long, exhausted sigh against her mouth.

The kiss broke off almost as suddenly as it had begun.

"That's what I thought", he uttered quietly. "Goodnight, my heart."

And with that Castle turned tail and left, leaving Kate to slowly back herself to the break-room couch and collapse onto the crinkling, old, leather lounge. With her elbows on her knees, she covered her face with her still shaking hands and sobbed.

* * *

><p>Do you hate me now? Love me? Want to smack one of them upside the head.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Four.

* * *

><p>Castle burst out of the precinct's doors and into the chilled evening air. His heart raced in his chest and his mouth was dry. The shock of sudden cold after the heat of indoors sent a chill through his body. Upon further reflection, he thought that possibly it could be the impending case of self-doubt and second-guessing. Tears he had unknowingly shed on the elevator ride down froze on his face, left a salty trail down his stubble covered cheeks. He made his way vaguely in the direction of the loft, in no hurry to get there. Happy, smiley faces and cheery holiday greetings assaulted him at every turn. It served to dampen his Christmas spirits even further and set his mind into overdrive. He re-wrote the scene over and over in his mind.<p>

He could have backed off, as her overtly curt reply to his ungainly collision with her had implied. Gone home and shared the evening with his mother and daughter. _Damn it, no! _She was his family now. Whether she liked it or not she had won his heart and the hearts of the ones he loved. And when a family member was hurting you hung around and pestered them until they allowed you to help. It might displease them in the moment however a festering problem only grew more inflamed. The last six months had been a testament to that. It was time for happy ending. Wasn't it?

Mainly though, his mind replayed that kiss. It had been on his mind since well before it actually materialized. It was probably a tad disturbing how much of his days were spent fantasizing about how their first real kiss would go. He'd imagined kissing the smirk off her face after a particularly biting jab. Nipping at her lips until she smiled into his mouth and joined in on the fun. He'd pondered cornering her on New Years Eve and giving them both an out. Of course in his fantasies no out was ever taken. Professions of love and heavy petting were the only outcome his mind would allow. He'd often return to the scenario where they had finally, together, solved her mothers murder. She would sink into his arms in relief and he would kiss her on the cheek, only to be surprised when she angled her face towards his lips. Happily ever after would ensue. Beaches and sunsets, puppies and children. Rainbows and unicorns may have been considered. And rejected on the grounds of being way to girly. Richard Castle was much to manly to dream of unicorns frolicking. The rainbows could stay.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, it was the exact kiss that he had just experienced that he mulled over the most in his daydreams. Four years was a long time for two people to dance around each other. The topic might change, the exact situation; but fighting, turned passion, turned revelations of love was his 'go-to' flight of fancy. The electricity that crackled between them almost guaranteed the outcome. He smiled, it was fitting that he'd spilled the coffee all over her. His daily token of love, spewed out and dumped in her lap. It's heady aroma had mingled with Kate's unique smell, added an extra layer to the encounter. He may have to switch to tea. If he ever wants to get any work done again.

His footsteps crunched in the fresh fallen snow. The cold air nipped at his nose and lightly burned his lungs. He slowed his pace, stopped. He felt lighter. Free. Like an incredible burden had been lifted off his shoulders. The truth was out, both his declaration and her deception. The ball was squarely in her court. Worried? Yes. A little. More about the state he'd left Kate in than the ultimate outcome. Kate's little moan and submission to his embrace had cemented his long held belief that she felt the exact same way about him. Walls had come crashing down, dams broken. Pick your metaphor. His mind was full of them tonight. Cliches were created for situations like the one himself and Beckett had gotten themselves into. The glimpse of hurt he had detected in her eyes before he had bolted troubled him. _Asshole._ He had figured out a few days prior that her mood was Johanna related. He's almost slapped himself when he'd noticed her absentmindedly toying with the ring she kept closely guarded at her breast. Of course Christmas would be a touchy subject. He had redoubled his efforts at charming her and being her constant. It had backfired, quite impressively in hindsight. Snowballed out of control. The more he tried, the more upset she'd become. And so he would re-double his efforts. Her extreme reactions confused him. Off-kilter she was. Distant one minute, needy the next. He'd always been able to pick her back up, when she'd shown signs of becoming swallowed previously. This time he was at a loss. He considered running back to the precinct and establishing that she was okay. He ultimately decided that he'd done enough pushing for one day.

He was still stinging a little from the information that she'd kept her knowledge of his loving her a secret. She had never outright acknowledged it. She didn't need to. It had been written all over her face. Tonight. For months now.

As he happened upon the entrance to the loft, his spirits lifted substantially. The doorman greeted him with a smile and a tip of his hat. Rick reciprocated and as he made his way to the elevator checked his watch. It was amazingly still early. Only 6pm. The heavy cloud cover and looming skyscrapers had prematurely darkened the sky. His exhausting day of thumb twiddling, brooding and ultimately fighting had taken a toll on his psyche. _Let's not forget kissing, Rick. _He would have sworn an oath in a court of law that it was nearing midnight. Being in love was exhausting, Alexis was right. Alexis was waiting upstairs with cocoa, popcorn and "It's a Wonderful Life."

It could be.

* * *

><p>Will our detective come to her senses? Has our writer pushed his luck? Stay tuned... ;)<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Five.

* * *

><p>The grind and hum of the refrigerator's fan changing speeds jerked Kate back to reality. She sat up straight, stiffened her spine. It was a ritual she was adept at. Working homicide provided ample opportunities to practice the art of closing off ones emotions.<p>

_Fucking hell, Castle!_

She didn't often curse. Not out aloud anyway. Her internal monologues would put even the saltiest of sailors to shame most days though. Anger wasn't one of the easier emotions to shut out. Most of the time she didn't even try. It was a useful one, capable of taking all the others and wrapping them in a protective bubble of vitriol and sarcasm. She angrily brushed the remnants of tears from her face and steeled herself to go practice her yearly habit of cleansing. As she strode to her desk, grabbed her purse and prepared to make the journey towards her car, the cemetery, a waft of stale coffee invaded her olfactory senses. Her stomach constricted and she took a mouthful of dry, warmed air. Right. New shirt. A pit stop to the locker room was required.

_Damn you, Rick!_

The drive to the cemetery had been a quick one. Traffic was light; it always was on Christmas Eve. Families were together and apartment windows glowed warmly. Churches were packed to capacity and stores closed early, last minute gift procrastinators left with limited options. Still, twilight had already turned to night as she arrived at her mother's headstone.

"I'm sorry I'm late Mom." She sighed into the cold night air as leaves on nearby trees rustled in the frigid breeze. She wrapped the blanket a little tighter around her body, trying unsuccessfully to emulate the strong, compassionate hugs her mom had always provided her with. "I forgot your flowers, too."

A harsh sob escaped her lips and finally she allowed the tears to flow. She seated herself on the cold ground and let out a small squeak as the wet, silvery snow, permeated her dress pants. She let her fingers trace the lines of the marker not even bothering to glance at the words. They were embedded in her soul. She had written them herself when three months after her mother's death, her father still wallowing in his despair and a fifth of Jack, a kindly mason had phoned and gently reminded her that the granite and bronze headstone still lay unadorned, waiting for installation.

_She was a woman of exquisite worth;_

_Guileless as a child;_

_Defiant defender of the truth;_

_And yet by nature, full of grace._

Kate had spent the better part of the last decade desperately trying to mimic her mother. Unsuccessfully. The second line mocked her. She had been anything but truthful as of late. Hot cascades of grief dashed down her face, the dam finally broken. Racking sobs shook her thoroughly with the awareness that she needed to make a choice. The choice was clear. Easy. Child's play really. Her mother was dead and Rick was not. Her psychologist had not so subtlety pointed it out to her on more than a few occasions. The choice was cruel. It would mean walking away. Not from homicide, her career. Assisting families in their time of tragedy would still bring her some measure of closure, the sense of peace and achievement that overcame her when giving out the answers she'd never herself received. No. Walking away meant shelving her mothers case. She still had the murder board adorning her shutters, mocking her every morning as she sipped on her Pre-Castle, inferior coffee and guiltily studied her notes. It would need to be packed away; maybe not forever, but at least until they could work on it as a team. Until she was whole. Free. That part of herself, the part she used to shield herself from relationships had to go. If she really was ready, she needed to open herself up to being cherished by a cocky writer with a penchant for getting in trouble and making her smile. It helped that he had a cavernous heart and a not too shoddy physique. Kate was no puritan. If that kiss had taught her anything it was the pleasing way his body had melded to her own and the certainty that she needed to do it again. Soon.

"He kissed me, Mom", she quietly spoke. "For real this time, no pretenses. It was...incredible."

A small smile played at her lips.

"I think you would have liked him. He's noble and old-fashioned. Broad minded and tolerant. A lion masquerading as a wolf. He's nothing like we fantasized about when we'd ogle his page six appearances. He rarely even makes his presence known in those papers these days. When he does, it's usually because of me or a case we solved together. Yeah. I think you'd like him. Dad does."

She chuckled quietly and picked nervously at the fraying edges of the blanket.

"I love him." Kate sighed heavily, let the silence of the deserted graveyard surround her. "I have to move on, Mom. Let you go a little. I hope I'm not disappointing you."

The breeze ceased and fresh snow had begun to fall while Kate vented. She stood up and let the blanket drop to the ground. Delicate flakes stuck to her hair and landed on her lashes as she gazed up to the stars and prayed for absolution. She closed her eyes and raised her arms. Let the fluffy crystals accumulate on her open palms. A feeling of tranquility overcame her and she felt as though a world of hurt and guilt had been raised from her shoulders.

Kate warily opened her eyes at the reverberation of a soft fluttering. A small blue jay was perched atop the headstone. It's feathers glistened in the midst of the falling snow. It cocked it's head to the side as if appraising her, shook it's head and then resumed it's quiet study. The different shades of blue reminded her of Castle's eyes. The sky when he was happy, the sapphire of his ire. The cerulean when he was bored and the dazzling azure of his laughter.

"What are doing out here so late, little one?" Kate felt a little silly talking to a bird. She shook her head. No sillier than talking to your long deceased mother in frigid temperatures on Christmas Eve.

The bird abruptly took flight. It made several sweeping passes of a nearby birch tree and promptly landed back on the marker. Kate shivered, not from the cold. Clarity assaulted her psyche. Her fear was gone. The ever present feeling of impending doom was nowhere to be found. Calm, serenity. She closed her eyes. She'd been there before, she'd already imagined her future with Rick. The feeling of making love to him, the words she'd say at the altar, as she first held their children. The feel of his hand in hers. Always. He was the only one she wanted. And she'd never have him until she forgave her past. Nobody's perfect but he was hers and she was his. And he was worth it. She smiled wide. A full on teeth baring, gum revealing expression of joy. Surrender. Freedom. It felt amazing.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Prayed. Acknowledged. Promised.

"I won't let you down."

She could let go without forgetting. Move on without giving up.

_She could be happy._

* * *

><p>It's another one of <em>those<em> chapters. Filling me with terror and hope that you will like what I've done with them. Kate's not the bad guy in this story, neither is Rick. I hope I have let that come across as they slowly make their way towards each other.

Bonus points to anyone who got the song reference. It was glaringly obvious. To me at least.


	6. Chapter 6

"There is _no way _it's in this house!"

The fiery red-head was huffing and puffing. Bright eyed and red-faced. She rummaged through drawers, double checked the bookshelf. Looked behind the coats hanging in the hall closet and checked the pockets just to be sure. She had even checked the shower in the bathroom nobody ever used. They had played this game since she was a small child. After an incident at Christmas during her eighth year of life, in which Alexis systematically found all her presents, carefully unwrapped, re-wrapped, and promptly sent off a second letter to Santa demanding to know why the N64 she had requested wasn't amongst the treasures she had scavenged. Her Dad had sat her down that Christmas Eve and calmly explained that Santa sometimes needed some help, being as how busy this time of year was, and since he was helping Santa anyway, why shouldn't they make a game out of it? The N64 had arrived three days later with a note atop it's box, written in unfamiliar handwriting. It had explained that sometimes wish-lists got preemptively sent to the 'to be filed' box and offered a heart felt apology for the delay. Rick had saved sixty-seven dollars in a post-Christmas sale. Alexis has believed for 3 more years.

The next Christmas the 'find your presents and you can open them early game' had begun.

"Ah, dear daughter. You should just admit I am the master. No one does it better than me. Give it up. You'll get your gift in the morning like all the other good little boys and girls."

Alexis rolled her eyes at him. "Daaaad. Come on!" she whined.

"Nope. And really, in the oven? I expected more from you. What if it had melted? What if I'd cooked it!" A look of sheer horror crossed his face. "A Lego Death Star! I would never have forgiven myself."

Alexis laughed merrily at his boyish reaction to her gift but the smile quickly faded, a hint of anger surfaced at the fact that it had been sitting there for a week now. They ate out more frequently during the holidays and no one had been home much to cook but still..she'd expected him to find the gift days ago. He was off his game and Alexis was pretty sure she knew the reason why.

Richard noticed immediately and concern clouded his features.

"What?"

"It's just...It's Kate right? You've been...off. All week. And she hasn't been here once. Don't think I hadn't noticed the amount of time you've been spending together lately and then all of a sudden she drops off the face of the planet and you act like a puppy who's been kicked in it's hind leg. And if she's hurt you.." Her words tumbled out in an exasperated string and trailed off into a shocked gasp.

"Dad, I'm sorry. It's not my place. She makes you happy, I know. _I know._ It just seems this past week you haven't been particularly jolly." She threw herself next to him on the couch and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into his neck.

Castle thought he had been doing such a good job of keeping up the facade of Christmas spirit at home. It seemed the acting chops weren't genetic. Or maybe his daughter was just that perceptive. Maybe a bit of both. Probably option two. He placed a kiss atop her head and smoothed her hair.

"I can't get anything by you can I?"

"Nope"

"Would it help if I said Kate and I talked about it tonight?"

"Depends. Is the reason she's not here an indication of how it went?"

"It went...well, I think. It's complicated, this time of year. It's hard on her, you know? I'm still not entirely certain what I did more wrong than usual this past week though."

Alexis raised herself up and looked her father in the eye. Intently she appraised his face. Worry, sadness, a touch of guilt. Those three she could have passed off as directed at her. Maybe even to the detective. But the fourth tell, the slight twinkle in his eye and the way his mouth was slowly lifting into a lopsided smile.

"You kissed her!"

"I did."

"She takes you for granted."

"She doesn't."

"You love her."

"I do."

"I love you."

"I know." He pulled her into a hug and whispered, "Back at you kiddo."

Alexis was silent for a long moment. It wasn't that she disliked the detective. The opposite was true. She had placed the detective on a pedestal a long time ago. She was strong, feminine, full of conviction, confidence and heart. And she made her father happy. She was all she wished her own mother was and all she aspired to be. The events of the summer had shook her to the core though. The impossible standard she had placed on the unknowing detective had cracked and splintered. Alexis had been forced to evaluate the fragility of life in a way her father's sheltering bubble had always shielded her from. She knew he dealt with death on a daily basis, wrote about it long into the night; but until she had heard the bullet crack through the cool morning air, witnessed her father's devastation as he'd knelt over Kate's lifeless body, realized how close it had come to _him_ being the one with the bullet hole to the chest, it had never really hit home. As detailed and fine tuned as the narrative in her father's books was, nothing prepared you for the real deal. She had funneled her fear and misgivings into anger and acting out.

Not entirely unlike the woman she was musing over with her father this very minute.

"She's worth it."

"I know that too daughter," he huffed with a smile and a roll of his eyes.

"Do you think she'll be stopping by tonight?"

_Was that hope he detected in his daughter's voice? _

"I hope so," he replied. "I could use a Christmas miracle."

Alexis chuckled and punched him lightly on the arm. "I think you've been watching too many Lifetime holiday movies. You're so sappy at Christmas, Dad. Sappy enough to to give me a hint on gift locations maybe?"

"Ha!" he laughed out, "Nice try, now get thee rear end to thy bed. Santa is on his way. You wouldn't want him to skip the loft." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and gave his arm a squeeze before rising to his request.

"He knows when you are sleeping!" he sung out as she climbed the staircase.

She rolled her eyes and raised her arm for a small wave. "Goodnight, old man. Merry Christmas."

As Alexis disappeared into the blackness beyond the stairs he heard a timid knock on the door.

"It will be." he smiled as he rose and tried his best to plaster a neutral look on his face.

* * *

><p>There you have it. Chapter 6. I don't usually like writing Alexis but this scene wouldn't quit bugging me. I'm 90% certain that this is the penultimate chapter. Hopefully tomorrow I will finish this little foray in Yuletide fluff. Stay tuned for the update. Many thanks for all the alerts and favorites. An extra helping of thank-you to the people who have reviewed. To the rest of you - don't be afraid to hit the review button while you wait. ;)<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Kate had made her way to Rick's loft in record time. It was nearing midnight and the streets had been clear. She had left her window down, let the cool air blast her face, and sung loudly to the carols playing on the radio. She'd earned herself an odd look from a cabby she'd pulled up next to at a stop light. She'd stuck out her tongue as the light turned green and loudly continued singing, laughing inwardly at the obvious change the writer had unknowingly bestowed upon her.

Now that she had arrived though, a blessedly free parking space right in front of the building, nerves had crept up to taunt her. She turned off the ignition and tried the calming, deep breaths her therapist had taught her.

_In... and out, Kate. In... and out._

She had been sitting in the car for a good ten minutes, silently giving herself a pep talk, mentally going over all the reasons why and why not starting something more with Castle would be a good thing and not a mistake of epic proportions. It was beginning to get cold in the confines of the serviceable, although slightly veteran Crown Vic.

A tap at the window startled her out of her reverie.

"Jeez, Sam! You scared the hell out of me. What's up?'

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Miss Beckett." Sam chuckled. "Far be it for me to tell you what to do with your Christmas Eve but I'm sure that a warm apartment and the company of a certain writer who lives upstairs would be far superior to the confines of this charming mobile. Also? It's bloody freezing out here and and if you insist on sitting out here for the rest of the night, let me know, okay? I have a hot chocolate with my name written all over it back at the desk."

Kate laughed, "I'm sorry, you're right. How did you get stuck with Christmas Eve anyway? I'd think that young guy, what his name? Matt? Anyway, I figured he would be the one stuck with door duty on Christmas Eve." She gathered her purse and keys as Sam opened the car door for her.

"You win some, you lose some," he replied, guiding her around a patch of ice and towards the bronze doors that led to the lobby of Rick's apartment. "Some story about a great aunt and last holidays before she dies. Personally I think it has more to do with that new little chickadee who keeps sniffing about around here, while he's supposed to be working." he supplied with a wink as he opened the heavy door for her.

"You want to me to call on up to Mr. Castle? Give him a heads up that you're on your way?" he asked as she pressed the elevator button.

"No Sam, that's fine. I need to do this myself." She smiled gratefully to the kindly, old man. She grown to have quite a rapport with him in the four years that she'd been coming to the Castle abode. At first he'd been wary of her. Probably mistaking her for one of the fan-girls or gold-diggers Castle had once been known to frequent. But as she'd continued coming, he'd slowly changed his attitude from one of barely concealed mistrust to quiet cheerleader.

Sam smiled knowingly. He had not failed to notice how the man who had once never deigned to leave the apartment before 11pm, now was out and about early in the morning, with a spring in his step and a light in his eyes which, years earlier, had been absent. Despite what the tabloids would have you believe about the playboy lifestyle, Richard Castle had never brought those things around his home. It was his genuine, and shining, love and respect for his daughter that had brought the writer to the old man's attention. He had made it his personal duty to assist the man whenever he could. If that meant pointedly ignoring a beautiful woman staring into the lobby or making a call about suspicious activity to the police, who was to judge him?

"Good luck," he wished.

"Thanks," Kate replied as the elevators closed to the tune of Sam whistling "Merry Christmas, Darling".

_I get it Mom. _

_Back off would ya?_

* * *

><p>Okay, I lied. This is the penultimate chapter. Sam came to me and I dunno, it struck me that we never get to see Kate entering the loft. It's New York, it's a high cost apartment he lives in. There should be a doorman or security or<em> ..something.<em> Not that I mind Beckett showing up to the Castle door. If only it would happen more often. Never fear though. Chapter eight is written and I'm giving it a quick once-over now. It will be up tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

Eight.

* * *

><p>She took a deep breath as the elevator doors dinged open. <em>Now or never, Kate. <em>With only one small hesitation, she rapped nervously on his door. She hoped he'd still be awake. She knew he'd still be awake. She was surprised by how long it took for the door to open though.

"Beckett." He greeted her with a stoic face and low voice.

"Rick, I.." she trailed off. It wasn't the warm reception she'd been hoping for but something in his eyes hinted that this cool, unaffected man in front of her wasn't entirely playing it truthful.

"Come in," he murmured, opening the door wide and helping to relieve her of her jacket. She toed off her shoes, scrunching her toes as the cool hardwood floor met with her bare feet.

Rick closed the door. The soft snick of the lock reverberating in her mind. The time had come. It was 'now'. In no time or place could it have been 'never'.

No. Not with these two.

The air was crackling with nervous energy, they were both on edge. The pair's minds replaying the previous events of the evening. The usual uncomplicated and easy silence was nowhere to be found. She followed him towards the large picture window. Stood next to him as he gazed out over the city. Bright, multicolored Christmas lights twinkled from neighboring windows and the familiar orange glow of the city had an extra air of magic about it. Somewhere along the way he had re-instilled her belief. She breathed in his familiar scent, allowed it's comforting spice to sooth her. A balm to her tortured senses. Their arms lingered dangerously close, a hair's breadth from touching. She allowed her pinky finger to tentatively splay towards his own.

He jumped about a foot at the connection and let out a somewhat pained sounding yelp.

"God, Kate..I.." he let his words trail off and paced over to the grand piano's bench. He patted the cushion and gestured for her to come sit beside him. "We need to talk."

"We do." she agreed softly.

"It's just..." "I never..." they both exclaimed together. They shared a small smile and at that moment an idea came to Kate.

She placed a finger softly at his lips, indicating for him to be quiet. She let her hands run over the keys of the beautiful old grand. Traced the familiar patterns of black and ivory. She hadn't played in years. Her dad has taught her well though. Calmly enduring the months, years, of halting scales until finally a firm grasp of musicality had been instilled in her. She angled her body more towards the piano, stretched her fingers out and prepared to tell Rick with music what her words were having a hard time expressing.

"Kate, wait!" he almost screamed.

"What the _hell_, Castle?" she cried, confusion on her face and nerves jangling anxiously in her belly.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. He rose, walked over and raised the hood. He lifted a small box from inside, quietly placed the hood back down and gently laid the box on top.

"I'll explain later." He winked. Leaning towards her, he rested his face in his right hand and chuckled quietly.

"You were going to.." He made a 'go ahead' motion with his left hand.

"Ah, right." Kate lowered her head and timidly raised her eyes to his one last time before taking the plunge. He smiled warmly, the familiar twinkle returning to his sapphire eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath and began to play. She played through the first verse and quietly began to sing at the first refrain.

_Merry Christmas darling, we're apart that's true._

_But I can dream and in my dreams, I'm Christmasing with you.._

Her dad had always played this song to her mom. He'd tried to get her to join in and every year her mom would slap him playfully on the chest, punch him in the arm and refuse. Kate's musical talent came squarely from her Dad's side of the family. It was her dad who had taught her piano, her uncle a rudimentary knowledge of guitar. Her mom's musical talent ended at a halting, one-handed rendition of "Mary had a Little Lamb".

_...Logs on the fire, fill me with desire_

_To see you and to say,_

_That I wish you Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, too._

_I've just one wish, on this Christmas Eve.  
><em>

_I wish I were with you,  
><em>

_I wish I were with you..._

She let the melody trail off and looked to the man leaning on the piano, his gaze was riveted to hers. His eyes looked suspiciously watery.

"Kate, that was beautiful." He slowly walked towards her, offered a hand to raise her up. She accepted and gratefully collapsed into his embrace. They stood there, in his brightly decorated living room, swaying to a silent melody for a few beats.

"It was my mom's favorite."

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, "I should never have run away...before."

"You're right," she chuckled, "that's my M.O."

Kate pulled back, allowed herself to gaze up at his face. Into his kind, soulful eyes. "But you know, it's what I needed. I went to visit Mom, to clear my head. You know, work some stuff out?" She flattened her hand on his chest and stroked a lazy circle. "And that's the thing about you Rick. You always seem to know what I need. And I'm so sorry. For pulling you along, for pushing you away. For this past week especially. Remind me to tell you about the ornaments sometime."

She smiled somewhat guiltily and continued. "But even when I'm floundering, with no clue of what I need, there you are."

She stroked his jaw with her palm. "_Always_."

"Always." he agreed solemnly.

She rested her head back against his chest and they again swayed to the silence.

"I love you, too." she softly admitted.

Rick smirked, "It's about time."

He cupped her face and gently took her mouth with his. The kiss was slow and gentle, lazy. Not at all like their previous two. Their tongues swiped and probed, tasted. Their hands stroked and caressed, assuring themselves that this was no dream. There was no danger, no anger. It was gloriously guilt free. It spoke of acceptance and forgiveness. Absolution. It spoke of forever.

As they broke apart, Kate finally took in the sight of the loft. Rick had gone overboard with the decorating. She expected nothing less. His child-like glee with the holidays had charmed her for a few brief moments before the weight of her mom's absence had reared it's ugly head.

"Really Rick? An alien's head tree-topper? Really?" she laughed out loud and lovingly smacked his broad chest. "Only you."

"Surely my childish ways are no secret? I think it's what you_ love_ about me most." he replied with a sly smile. He relished being able to mention the 'L' word.

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." she intoned, her voice becoming serious.

Rick's mind had already begun mentally undressing the beautiful brunette before the more cognitive part of his brain detected the somber ring to her voice.

"Hm?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Your secret," she replied with a knowing nod of her head towards his study, "I may not have taken down my own yet either".

"Ah," he uttered out, the answer to her cryptic question coming to his mind abruptly. The murder board. How did she know? Of course she knew. Just as he had known about her little secret, she was sure to have known about his. They never were very good at hiding anything from each other. They had wasted an awful amount of time trying though. Panic began to bubble up in his chest.

"Kate, it's not..I mean..when you..and they..and..oh, God." He ran his hand roughly through his hair and bit his lips. Where were his words when he most needed them? He needed not to screw this up.

"Shh." She placed a soft hand to his cheek and stroked his hairline. "It's okay. I always knew you wouldn't be able to stay away. But I want us to solve it_ together_. When I'm ready. When _we_ are ready. I don't want to go through it alone anymore, I don't even know if I could."

"I love you," he sighed, thankful for this change that had come over the woman he loved.

"I know."

She grinned, led him through the threshold and into the study. He made a move towards the remote, placed haphazardly atop a pile of papers.

"Not now." she murmured, dragging him towards her and in the direction of his bedroom. "Later."

"Why, detective. I never thought you'd ask." Surprise and arousal springing up instantaneously. Surprise that she had let go enough to not need to see the board. Arousal because, well really, how many times had he imagined her pulling him to the bedroom?

"To sleep, Rick. To sleep."

He cleared his throat. "Of course."

He kissed her softly on the temple and laid her down on the bed. Eased himself beside her and wrapped his arms protectively around her waist. The soft satin of her work shirt slid up, revealing even softer skin. He splayed his hand across her belly and laid a chaste kiss to the back of her neck. He closed his eyes and drank in the scent of Kate, mingling with his own on his pillows. Made a mental note to ask her what she wore. It smelled like home.

"Goodnight, my heart."

"Until tomorrow, Rick."

* * *

><p>Atop the stairs, Alexis grinned and padded quietly downstairs to the piano.<p>

Kate's knock had roused her suspicions and brought her tacitly to the stairs. She had sat perched on the top step, riveted by the scene unfolding below. Her heart had swelled, stopped for a beat, watching these two make their inevitable collision. She had almost giggled out loud when she had seen her father's hiding place. She'd clamped a hand roughly over her mouth and held tight. Kate's beautiful singing voice had soothed a hurt she didn't know she still carried and a pang of guilt had momentarily made her consider retreating back to her bedroom. She wasn't sure she should have been a witness to this encounter. The soft smile of her father as he watched Kate sing had kept her rooted in place, unable and unwilling to move. She had quietly swiped silent tears from her cheeks as they shared their first kiss.

She picked up the box and studied it. Ran her fingers over the shiny, metallic paper and gave it a light shake. She would never have thought of the piano. She was definitely losing her touch.

"I'll let you have this one, old man," she whispered and put the box back carefully where he had left it.

She smiled towards his study, shuddered at what might be going on beyond the door to his bedroom and stealthily made her way back upstairs. Some things she would never be grown up enough to imagine. The love she had witnessed earlier though, the devotion, the friendship; she only hoped she too would someday find that.

* * *

><p>Phew! And that's all she wrote. My two (Or is it three now?) day marathon of writing is over. I hope the conclusion satisfied.<p>

A huge debt of gratitude to all the people who have added me to their alerts, favorites and especially those who took the time to write reviews. I'm getting to the replies. Promise. If I happen to miss anyone, I apologize in advance. They really do mean the world to me. Keep them coming! It's like my crack!

Aloha!


End file.
